


No One Told Me

by yuletide_archivist



Category: Kill Bill (Movies)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-22
Updated: 2004-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-25 04:00:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1630382
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuletide_archivist/pseuds/yuletide_archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Bride may have exacted her revenge from Bill, but she has yet to deal with his death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No One Told Me

**Author's Note:**

> Written for tenar

 

 

Bill was a cunning man, and his swordplay was respected by all of his snakes. When he tried to murder me and took our child, all I wanted was to destroy every last one of the fuckers who had a hand in the dirty work. Revenge, however, is a dish best served cold. The last thing I ever expected to see when I tracked Bill down was my baby, alive and well. There was no way that we could ever have a happy little family after what he had done, but her safety and what we had once been made it that much harder for me to Kill Bill. Our life, our love, and that beautiful baby girl of mine between us.

Yeah, I got over it.

No One Told Me

A Kill Bill Fanfic

Epilogue Chapter 1: Remembrance

On the one-year anniversary of the day that Bill died, I walked my precious little girl out to the bus stop at the corner. I swung her hand in mine, fingers soft and firm around her tiny fist, squeezing with the satisfaction of simply being able to touch her like this. Now, most mommies would never have had a chance to hold their kids if they had experienced a difficult pregnancy like mine. But damn if I wasn't the biggest, baddest, proudest mother there ever was. I cut myself a stack of bodies and defeated death at his own bloody game to prove it.

Coming to the curb where we would wait for the big yellow school bus, I knelt down to where I could look B.B. in those familiar eyes. "Baby, you remember what I told you about? That something special today is?"

B.B. nodded at me, blonde curls dancing around her round face in the brush of a passing breeze. "I remember the something special for today. It's the day when Daddy died."

"That's right." I smiled at her, tucking some of those rogue locks of hair behind her ears with my fingertips. "This is when Daddy died. But we aren't going to be sad about it, right? Because Daddy also wanted you and me to be together. That happened on this very same day, and we got to live happily ever after."

The bus rolled to a stop in the street alongside of us, and I gave B.B. a big hug goodbye for the morning. "When you get home, we can out for dinner wherever you want, honey-pie. To celebrate when I came back to get you, okay?"

"Mommy, do you miss Daddy?" She asked me in a voice curious and clear, eyes waiting to see mine as I pulled away.

"Sometimes, B.B., I do. But mostly, I'm glad he's gone. Now hurry up so the bus driver doesn't leave without you."

More space was put between our pressing palms then merely the windowpane, as the yellow bus grumbled down the drive. She waved. I waved. And I journeyed back home for a little self-indulgent wallow in the memory of that bastard Bill. For one day, I would allow myself to heat up the leftovers of that dish I served up so cold.

Of course I still love him.

Epilogue Chapter 2: Most Couples Aren't Assassins

It may very well not have been traditional, but I gave Bill the engagement ring. Only thing is, it wasn't our engagement ring, and it was more business then pleasure.

Who am I shitting? The killing business always was my pleasure, back then.

I found him on the back porch of his hacienda, and set the black pen-sized gift box on the small table beside his deck chair. He looked up from his early reading materials, folding aside pages of the funny papers to rest in his lap with a selection of obituaries from across the globe. Taking a last sip of his Bloody Mary before acknowledging me, he set it aside. "Good mornin', sunshine. I'm afraid that you missed a lovely sunset, but the good news is that there will be another one tomorrow."

I simply smiled. You have to imagine it, the way it was, instead of how it ended up. I used to smile at him, my breath caught behind pink lips that blossomed with joy to hear him speak. Pursed, parting, he opened me up alright with that silver tongue of his. He liked to hear himself talk, and I wanted to be the only woman in the world who ever got to listen. Wanted to lap each honeyed word right out of his mouth with mine, burning to taste him, feel him, ache with him against me. That's the way it was, with Bill. And I can tell you that no man has ever done me over like that man did to me.

"You bring me that ring I ordered, Kiddo? I don't reckon that the young lady wanted to part with it, but you're nothing if not incredibly persistent."

"I wrapped it in the box," was what I promised him.

His hard eyes so casually beating right through me, Bill picked up the rectangular box. He took his sweet time, sliding off the top, and nudging apart the folds of the packaging gauze. He made no movement or sound of surprise, and I doubt there was any. Picking up the severed ring finger, he rolled it around between his own index and thumb, examining the platinum and five carat princess cut boulder that was her engagement ring. The fucking behemoth hardly fit on her finger, but she had somehow managed it. "To think that she could even keep from falling head over heels with this gaudy bit of glitter on her hand boggles the imagination. Ought to make a fine trophy for her former fiance. Perhaps he could mount this on a wall, next to a stuffed elephant."

"I should think," he continued as he replaced the lid of the pen box, "that I would be tasteful enough to pick you out something suitable to your tastes, instead of handing the jeweler a wad of bills set to choke a bull and leaving it at that."

Bill reached for me, and parts of my body tensed. He grazed his short nails along the skin of my side, folding away the cloth of my shirt in a rush of fluid, tactile warmth. He was a damn smooth operator when he wanted to be. Had this been any other man, his arm would have come out of his shoulder socket by now under my pitiless grip. As it was, a shiver tickled up my spine.

He stood up, intentionally too close, rubbing every curve and plane of himself against mine. I took the opportunity to spread my hands behind his back, meeting his eyes without so much as the bat of an eyelash. The way we knew each other was intimate and honest. I had no respect for anyone lower on the food chain then myself, and neither did he. I wanted him, to work for, to live with, to fuck. Which happened to be what Bill wanted from me. When two people know each other better then anyone else ever could, when they smell of each other's skin, when they dream in the same shades of murder - what do they call that? We called it love. I want to see the Hallmark card for that.

"You can be a classy guy, Bill. And I like a man who can come out and just say whatever he's pussyfooting around to saying."

"Where's your sense of grandiose romance? But I suppose a formidable woman such as yourself would have a hard time ever being swept off her feet." Bill tried to punctuate his point by sliding a heavy foot into the weak spot of my ankle, only I felt him before I had a chance to even fully understand the movement. Muscle memory and a religious study of the use of the human body as a weapon do not come cheap, nor do they deny their advantages to the faithful.

I had begun to move even as his foot lashed out, bearing the weight of my body into my thigh at the back of his knee. A lesser man would have fallen flat on his face after a pounce like that, but no sir, not my Bill. The most I could do was to force his leg to kneel, with a hard smack into the porch. He stopped moving. A curious sound stopped me from taking a chokehold around his neck with my crooked elbow.

"What's so funny?"

His laughter waned, bluntly, and he raised his head so that he could see me peering down at him. "Before we started roughhousing, I was going to ask if you would ever wear a ring. Not that I would expect you to wear it on the job, if it altered the way you held a blade. This is, at least, a somewhat traditional pose. Even if you are meant to be on the other side."

I narrowed my eyes at him softly through the streaks of my own blonde hair. "An engagement ring." Half of that was statement, and the other half was stuck in disbelief.

"Call me old fashioned."

"That's awfully normal for a couple of Western ronin like us."

"Most couples aren't assassins, and none of them are us. Let me up so I can buy you a damn ring."

I did let him up, looking him up and down. "There's no time for that right now. I have to fly out to put that hit on Lisa Wong."

"Then, when you get back." He stood tall, rolling out his shoulders and looking me in the face again. He never looked down, only across. Funny how that mattered so much.

"When I get back," I agreed. I found one of his hands with mine, squeezing it with a sense of warmth that a cool bitch like yours truly almost manages to forget. "Bill," I said with my voice low. "I want that ring here when I come home."

He cradled my neck, bringing his lips to rest against my throat, thrumming through me as he spoke. I closed my eyes. "Ain't that something," he said. "That makes two of us."

Epilogue Chapter 3: Truth Be Told

I roared, I rampaged, I killed my kin for B.B.'s future. I wanted her to have what she deserved, a fresh start, a life all her own to let her be whatever she wanted to be when she grew up. I moved heaven and earth, and god, she deserved it, all of it. It was the only truly magnificent thing I ever did with my life. But truth be told? That son of a bitch Bill was the beginning, so much as I made him the end. Part of me does miss him. Yet to live by the sword, is to die by the sword, and there were rules to the way we played it. There is no room for regret, just as there was no room for mercy at that moment when I ended Bill's life. He knew I would have him dead, and he was happy to let go if I could take it.

Now if I could only stop remembering him, I would be set. No one told me, that part would be so difficult.

 

 

 


End file.
